Unforgettable face
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: Written for the Mentalist bigbang onlj, with art by miss peg, au-ish. While struggling with a fresh romance, Jane and Lisbon travel to Queens for a case, crossing paths with the Queens Homicide Division and an old friend, Jane's brother-in-law, Danny Ruskin, now posing as Det. Sanders. Is the con-man up to something or is he changed? T on the safe side.


_**Unforgettable Face**_

**Notes:** Post My Blue Heaven and Green Thumb for the Mentalist, and post season 1 finale for Unforgettable. X-over with the show "Unforgettable", au-ish, playing with the fact that the characters of Danny Ruskin on "The Mentalist" and Roe Sanders on "Unforgettable", shows both aired and produced by CBS, were both played by actor Kevin Rankin. Written for the mentalist big bang at Livejournal, and any thanks to Miss Peg, who provided the art for the cover.

* * *

Theoretically speaking, it should have been an easy assignment, but Teresa Lisbon was supposed to know better. When exactly, in the last twelve years, had anything been easy in her life, after all?

But easy, that was only how the case had looked like at first. And, after the last few weeks she had had, Lisbon had been even glad that Abbott had taken pity on her and had decided to ask her to go and take Winston Monroe in custody from the Queens Homicide Unit. Many would have felt demoted, but she knew it wasn't the case- even if she was technically a newbie and she would have deserved even less. Even Fisher had been a bit envious when their boss had given her the assignment. After the last few weeks, God only knew if her team didn't need a break- and she, along with Jane, were the ones who needed it the most. It wasn't just the fact that the last case had hit too close to home for comfort, with that awful Red John copycat that awoke dreadful memories she, Jane and Cho had tried to bury. It was what had happened during _that _case.

She sighed.

She had been a stupid if she had hoped that the past could be completely forgotten. There were wounds that couldn't be healed, scars that would stay with them, no matter what. Intellectually, the had knew right from the start that this murderer of women and children wasn't the real deal, but that hadn't made it any easier for Jane. He was still the scarred animal she had met so long before- maybe because he had never learnt to properly let it go of his past. Apparently, he had told Fisher so on the Island, and he had repeated the words again to Lisbon herself, just few days after they found out about the second double murder. The moment was still imprinted in her memory, and she wondered if she was ever going to forget his words and his hunted and lost look.

_No_, she realized, shaking her head. There was just no way. Now when those words and that look were connected to what had followed, to her other senses, to a much more carnal memory. They had made a mistake, and she didn't know if Abbott knew it or not, but surely he had sensed that something was wrong with them and that she and Jane were in need of some time apart. Or maybe, _she _needed the time and space apart- Jane, as always, was ready to jump in head first. But right now, she wasn't ready to follow him. There were too many questions, too many things running through her mind, and to sort everything out, she needed time-_alone._ It wasn't like she wasn't respecting Jane or she was mad with him (although she was, a bit), she just wasn't ready to admit to him that he was right, and he always had been: she was afraid of commitment- and there was nothing more scaring than committing herself to Patrick Jane, mind, body and soul, because anything between them was going to be total and eternal, and she remembered all too well what kind of heartbreak that kind of relationship could cause. She had witnessed it with her parents, and with Jane's marriage. She didn't want to end like her father if something was going to happen to him while they were in a relationship- his sting in Vegas and the two years apart after Red John's murder had been already hell, and back then they had been just friends. And besides, she was making him a favor, too. Hadn't he suffered enough after Angela? Did he really think he could handle being in a relationship with a fed, someone who was paid to get in dangerous, life-or-death situations all the time ? She didn't think so.

But now, it wasn't time to dwell on the past. She had already reflected on how she hadn't handled the outcome of their actions, and how she could let him down gracefully, on the plane on her way to New York, and now it was time to stop. She knew the case, knew the people involved, and now it was time to do her damn job. She was good at it, always had been, and right now, it was her unique certainty in her life. As much as she had always wanted Jane to be in her life, she didn't know if she could handle a _relationship _with him, not with so many things between them.

She shook her head, sighing, and strolled outside the gate of the JFK, and almost immediately she noticed an energetic redhead, a bit younger than her, holding a sign with FBI-AUSTIN written in bold letters. With a bright smile- she knew how much federals could be disliked- she went in the woman's direction, and offered her hand to shake, first thing first.

"Queens Homicide?" Lisbon asked.

The redhead shook her hand, with strength, and yet carefully, still smiling. There was something mischievous about her- something that, Lisbon was scared of admit, remembered her of Jane a bit too much – but overall Lisbon had a good impression. Whoever the redhead with the shield was, she didn't feel threatened by the FBI working the case with them. It was a rare exception to the general rule, and who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth?

"Yep. Detective Carrie Wells, nice to meet you, Agent Lisbon." Lisbon looked at the cop with suspicion; she didn't know if being flattered or what by the fact that Wells knew her own name. But thinking about it, it wasn't that strange and she should stop being that paranoid-Abbott had probably called ahead and told Queens PD everything they needed to know in order to fill the necessary paperwork for Monroe's transfer. Strange but true, the Queens PD hadn't had any trouble at all with sharing the detainee with them; they probably even preferred if a man who murdered young women and their baby girls ended up being judged in Texas, where death penalty was still applied. Personally, she thought that solitary was as good as a punishment as any, but she could understand why someone could wish death to such a viscous creature.

Carrie smiled, again that mischievous smile, and Lisbon found out that she already liked the other woman at a skin level. She seemed interesting, and had what Jane referred to as "damaged intensity", something that only someone who was in their line of job- and had endured personal loss- possessed. It was the same thing that Lisbon possessed as well, what, according to Jane, made her attractive: strength and endurance molded over sufferance and survival.

"You know, Agent Lisbon…" Carrie started as they were walking outside the airport, but the FBI newbie stopped her before she could move further on with her line of thoughts.

"Please, Lisbon is all right with me." she paused and made a strange movement with her nose, a bit like Samantha in that old sitcom, _"Bewitched"._ "I just joined, and it's still weird. Especially since I used to dislike the FBI." She smiled, something that she hadn't done in a while, but she couldn't help it. For someone as closed off as her, it was a strange feeling, but she liked this woman. She felt secure, in a twisted and strange kind of way, like they shared something. Being women in a field mostly filled by men was already a good start, but Lisbon guessed there was more than that- something that "Carrie" seemed already aware of, and that Teresa could just feel.

"Yeah, don't tell me. I used to work in a small town, so I understand how you must have felt when the FBI came down on your own precinct back in Cannon River…"

As the detective said so, Lisbon suddenly stopped where she was, barely avoided by the sea of people convulsively walking and running all around them. She _knew _there was something… _odd _about Carrie, but what did it mean? Had the detective googled her or what? And even if she had, why? Carrie seemed to trust her: was it because she liked what she had discovered, or was there something more sinister hidden in the shadows? She knew that after crossing paths with Red John she had become paranoid, and even when she had finally acknowledged the existence of a quieter life when the nightmare was gone, she had always felt a bit on edge, being very protective of her privacy. But this was different, not something dictated by fear and inklings. It was something real, tangible.

"How do you know…"

Carries stopped and turned to face Lisbon, almost face-palming, like she was sorry she had forgotten something vital. The mischief was back in her eyes- and Lisbon found out there it reminded her _way too much_ of Jane. "Oh, please, I'm not some kind of cyber-stalker. Not that I don't know my way around a computer- even if it's not my area of expertise- it's just that your partner explained to me that you aren't our usual FBI agent because of your previous employments."

"My…" She paused, filled by fear and anger. It wasn't possible. She didn't want to believe it. And yet, if she moved her head a bit to the right, she could already see it in the distance, the body of proof. "My partner?"

They started to walk again, and in no time they reached the red Corvette, and here he was, leaning against the hood of the car, with crossed arms, just like Lisbon had feared, her "partner".

"Jane?" It wasn't exactly a question, nor an affirmation. All she knew was that he could read all her mixed feelings in her eyes- and that she was a bit ashamed of it. She didn't want to hurt him, that was why she had asked for a bit of time apart. She just needed to understand herself – and her feelings for him -first.

"Well, if you think this is a surprise…" He almost whispered, and she lifted her eyebrows, because it wasn't the behavior she was expecting from him, not in this situation, at least. But then, as Carrie was already entering in the car, in the driving seat, she saw that there was another person against the other side of the vehicle, a man that Jane indicated with a small movement of his head.

"Lisbon, allow me to introduce you to detective Roe Sanders…" And when Roe turned and gulped down a mouthful of saliva, she understood why Jane was behaving so oddly. She looked at him, quizzically, wondering if he knew what was going on, looking for an answer, but in his eyes she could see he knew as much as she did-meaning, nothing at all.

Without saying a word, her eyes wide open in shock, Lisbon shook the young man's hand- and wondered what the hell Danny Ruskin- Jane's former brother-in-law- was doing in New York City- and, even worse, working in the force. With a false name: Roe Sanders.

* * *

"Ehy, Al, we're back with the feds!" As Carrie strolled into the office before them, Lisbon's thoughts went immediately to the past, her happy- or at least, happier- days at the CBI. It wasn't only the whole atmosphere, though, to awake her senses; it was the fact that Danny Ruskin was there.

Danny Ruskin. Aka Jane's (former) brother-in-law. Aka the guy she had been supposed to arrest six years before and she left escape. Aka Detective Roe Sanders, Queen Homicide. The man she shook hands with just half an hour before. She didn't like this whole situation- and yes, the fact that the guy had the potential to destroy her career factored in her opinion as well. Jane had always told her that, deep down, Danny was a good "boy" (although she didn't know how Jane could describe as boy someone who had been almost 30 years old the last time they met) but she wondered if it wasn't guilt to make him talk like that. She wouldn't have been surprised if the mentalist thought of it like some kind of cry for help or a form of jealousy because the older man had stolen- and gotten killed- his older sister, Angela. After all, wasn't she there when Danny told Jane that Angela had always been the only good and sane thing in his life?

As she shook hands with Al Burns, she shivered, and Carried looked at her with a strange mix of emotions. Yes, she was wondering what was going on with the fed, but her eyes were also shifting to Al- something that didn't go unnoticed to Jane. The woman was probably misreading Lisbon, seeing a bidding attraction towards the lieutenant where the was just uncertainty. The mentalist would have smiled if things would have been different, because he really couldn't understand how no one in the room understood that Al and Carrie desperately wanted to be in a relationship. Well, no-one but the old woman looking at the murder board in the corner-her little smile at the scene spoke volumes.

When Al offered his hand to Jane, the consultant just crossed his hands behind his back, rolling on the heels of his feet like he was an annoyed toddler who couldn't care any less about the world outside what he wanted. "Yeah, well about this… as I am not here for an actual work-related reason and it's not like my presence is really needed, I was wondering if you could show me a place where it's actually possible to find decent tea."

At his statement, Lisbon rolled her eyes and barely resisted the urge to grunt. She should have understood that the man had probably taken few days off and followed her around the country- taking a flight with no changes just to arrive earlier and be there to welcome her. If things had been different, she would have been mad with him; getting there for a job-related reason, that, she could accept. But he had blatantly refused to give her the space she had asked him for. She knew he wanted to prove her he was serious and he didn't want her just because it was convenient or because it was easier, given their shared history, but by being so stubborn, he was just proving her fear right, that he didn't really wanted her as she was, but just because she was the closest woman to him. It was stupid and a bit irrational, but it was what she thought. They had been at each other's side for years, and yet, despite one single confession of love, later denied, he had never done anything to show that he cared for her more than a friend. What she understood was that Jane was probably sick and tired of being alone and a bachelor, and she was there.

But, despite everything… she was glad that Jane was there. Otherwise, she didn't know how she could have handled this whole thing with Danny/Roe. Jane, well, he knew the guy, and he knew carnie people. He had his way with them- he was probably already thinking about how to get him to confess to whatever he was planning to do, or had done. Or whatever.

Now that she thought about it… despite Jane's fixation with tea, it was probably why he had asked to be shown a good place for his beverage of choice. He was already planning on cornering Danny. She just wondered what they were going- and could do- about the thing now. She guessed they could expose him, but she didn't think that Jane, with his sense of guilt, was going to agree with her. Also, there was the fact that she had allowed Danny to escape the last time they saw each other: just a word from him could bite her in the back. They had to be careful, as they were navigating dangerous waters that could easily turn deadly. She had made already enough mistakes in her life, and she didn't want to add saving Jane's only family to the list of regrets she carried around. She had never done so in the past, if she had to be honest, and she hoped she wasn't going to in the future.

"Actually, Mr. Jane," Burns started, looking a bit confused (she didn't blame him) "I talked with Agent Abbott, and he said that, since you are here, you could provide us with further knowledge of the Red John case. If I understood correctly, you assume that your Red John copycat, Discoes, killed earlier with Monroe, and then they went their separate ways and kept killing on their own. I think we could really appreciate your insight, serial killers that brutal aren't usually our thing."

Jane shook his head, _no, _but then his eyes fell on Lisbon, her green eyes flaming and shining with rage. He knew it was hard enough for her to accept his presence there, and he guessed it was time to accept that they needed some middle ground. Show her he was doing his best- and helping out with a case (although already closed) was going to make him look good in her eyes. He mentally sighed, realizing that if he wanted any chance to enter again in her bed, and her life in general, he had to start to act on his best behavior.

"Well?" Al asked, his arms crossed. He was eyeing Jane not exactly suspiciously, but maybe like he had two heads. As soon as Carrie and Roe had called and said there was one more person to add to their visitor log, he had googled Jane's name out of curiosity, and frankly, he wasn't getting what Blondie was about. On paper, he seemed like some kind of crazy genius, a first class closer, but right now, the first impression wasn't exactly any good. More than anything, Patrick Jane looked like a gambler with a lucky star who solved cases because the solution used to fall in his lap.

"Uhm… well, as I already told my… _boss," _he hissed the word, almost disgusted, like thinking about Agent Abbott as his boss was somehow a shame or a sin. "I think Monroe, your killer, and the man we caught, Discoes, had been working together in the past. Our first victims were a young child and a woman who took self-defense classes with good results; one killer would have never been able to subdue her on his own. I think that at least that one case was the work of a team, and in fact, if you look closely, you'll notice that there was a slight change of MO in the following double homicide." Al opened his mouth to ask something again, and Jane saw that also Lisbon was going to ask him something. She looked rather annoyed, and he guessed he knew the reasons. First, he had followed her, and second, he was behaving like an annoying knew-it-all, the man who knew he was the smartest in the room: she had never liked when he made fun of cops, and pretended to be better than them, a weapon that couldn't be renounced; she had tried to tell him more than once that she had always closed cases without him (even if he helped to increase the numbers) but he still liked to make his point.

He grinned, and looking with unmasked pride at his lady-cop friend/girlfriend of sort, he went on, showing off as his usual. He couldn't wait for the moment Lisbon would roll her eyes at him, or glare in his direction; he loved to drive her crazy, and it was something he thought he couldn't make without.

"Anyway, Lisbon, to get to your question, and yes, I know what you were going to ask me…" He said, pointing his right index finger in her general direction. "As I was saying, I highly doubt we are dealing with a Blake Association rogue cell. Someone that close to Red John would have hit before in order to get me back here in the States, hurting someone I cared about, first thing first. If we'll give another look at the first case in Texas, it's unlikely that we'll discover that Monroe or Discoes were connected to them. Back then, there had been that special on television about the Dresden case we worked on, and I remember Red John was mentioned when they made our profile. They probably took inspiration from that clip, and they discovered the rest thanks to the internet- by the way, ask our tech experts to check their computers and phones, I'm adamant they were so sure we'd never find them that they didn't even bother to erase their browser history."

Jane paused, then turned to look at Al once again. His eyes were darker, he was suddenly more serious. He hated with every cell of his being those two monsters, who re-opened an old wound that had never healed properly, but he was compassionate for the victims of the two killers; women and children, all innocents, wives and daughters of innocents men, men who, contrary to him, had done nothing to awake the desire of revenge and the rage that had hit their beloved.

"The first cut is the deepest, it's said, and it often awakes a desire and need for further blood. Discoes was a killer in the making, his profile is school-book. Once he had the first taste, he found himself unable to stop, like an addict. Monroe left Texas for New York few weeks after the third homicide, he didn't have anything to do with it, but he knew who was the culprit since he heard the news. Who knows, maybe Discoes even went to him himself to tell him of his spree. Monroe got scared. He didn't want to be dragged down with his old pal, so he flee. He knew that otherwise he would have gone to him, helped him out. But then, he sees that we arrest his friend in Texas, and that, is what is referred to as a trigger. He starts to kill, maybe because he thinks there's nothing holding him back now that his old predominant partner is down, or maybe he thinks of this as some kind of mission. And just like he thought… once he starts, he can't stop."

He took a big breath, his eyes a bit lost. Just because it was the only thing he was able to do, just because it was his job, it didn't mean that he had to like it. Lorelai Martins, in that, had been right. But for the wrong reasons. "Monroe became a killer as part of a killer team, and he was the subdued unit. It means that now that his old partner is gone, he has turned himself into the dominator. You should look for someone else- I'd say a young man who's probably scared to death and held captive somewhere. Look at the relatives and friends of the first victims here, he may be connected to them. Look for dried tears on the crime scenes, he probably cried as Monroe forced him to kill."

He put his hands in his pockets, and turned on his heels, and without adding another word, he flee the scene, Roe hot on his trail, with a lot of questions, and maybe no answers at all for his former brother-in-law.

* * *

Roe found Jane over half an hour later, in the worst bar in the neighborhood; he was nursing what was supposed to pass as tea, but that looked like dirty dish water- the young cop was almost positive he could spot foam, too. It was probably a miracle if the place was still open, and if it was, it had probably to do with the fact that regular costumers knew that there was nothing better than ordering bottled stuff over there – and avoid drinking it from a glass. Roe decided to ask for a beer, even if he was supposed to be on duty, but he felt like something strong was going to be needed for the upcoming conversation with his former brother-in-law. Last time, he and Patrick had parted on quite good terms, but he guessed the police, and now FBI, consultant still remembered that in that occasion more than once the now detective had pointed a gun at his head. Yes, there was still some bad blood between them, and Roe didn't want to blackmail Patrick and Teresa to keep his secrets, but he was more than ready, although heartbroken, to go to such a length. He had a good thing going on there, he wasn't ready to renounce to the life he had built for himself for past mistakes, and things left unsaid between him and his team-members.

"So…" he started, after he and Patrick had sat for over five minutes one in front of the other, their eyes on their drinks, in complete silence.

"Frankly, Danny, I don't know if I want to talk about it right now." Jane shook his head, and for the first time since they had met, Roe/Danny wondered why the hell Jane had accepted to follow an already closed case if he knew that it was going to be that painful, with all the memories that it was bound to bring back. Was it because he still felt guilty for Annie and Charlotte, despite having killed their murderer? Or maybe it was something else. Maybe Patrick didn't want to, or couldn't, be happy. He wouldn't be surprised to discover that his former brother-in-law had developed self-punishing, psychological masochist tendencies after what had happened over twelve years before.

He nodded, and looked again at his bottle of beer, while Jane stared with fear and disgust at the beverage in front of him, and decided, at the end, to put it aside. "You don't have anything to blackmail me with, so forget your plan." Jane suddenly said, staring right at Danny's eyes. The younger man gulped down a mouthful of beer, and almost chocked at the sudden change of atmosphere; he wasn't expecting for this to happen, but then again, he was supposed to know better. After all, Patrick Jane had been family, once upon a time. His friend, even before that.

"I wasn't…"

"Yes, Danny, you were." Jane said, matter of fact, crossing his arms. He stared at Danny frustrated, looking like a stern parent who has just been disappointed by that trouble-maker of his kid once again. "What are you up to, Danny?" He asked, in an almost sweet voice. Any normal person would have felt better at his tone, but Danny just got more and more scared with each passing second: a calm and controlled Patrick Jane meant that he had something in his mind. Which was rarely a good thing-especially for who happened to be on the other side of his ideas.

"It's not what it looks like…" Danny started, and a glance at Jane told him that his former relative didn't believe him-yet, at least. Not that he blamed him: he wasn't being completely honest, actually. "Ok, all right. It started out as a con, but…" He paused, his eyes far away. Jane wondered where he was exactly with his mind and his heart; was he thinking about his long lost sister, the mistakes he had done? Was this some way of redeem himself, or was some kind of part of a long con? It was hard to say: Danny was no Patrick Jane, but he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve as well. He had learnt from one of the best, after all, Jane wasn't ashamed of admitting that he had been quite the teacher.

"Danny…" Jane started, looking at the younger man. He didn't add a single word. Just his name, and it was enough. "Roe" took a big breath, and shaking his head like to clear his thought, he started once again to talk.

"A guy I owed to, he put me in to get information. He wanted to know how much the cops knew about his business. But then..." He paused, and hid his face with his palms for few seconds. He looked and sounded tired. Jane thought about the exhaustion of keeping such a charade on for such a length of time; once upon a time, he had felt the same too, when he pretended to be a psychic, but he had been lucky enough to have someone back home, waiting for him, his_ real_ him, someone he could drop the mask for. Danny, on the other side, hadn't been himself in a long time, and for the first time since they met again, the mentalist wondered exactly how long it had been since his former brother in law had been Danny Ruskin. When had he became Roe, how long had it been since someone had called him by another name, his real one?

"I thought it was going to be easy. In and out, but then…" He took a big breath, and a small smile started to grace his lips. For a short time, just few seconds, he felt and looked like at peace, like his mind was in his safe place, relieving a happy memory. He shook his head, and he was almost laughing. "Women have a way of messing things up, uh?" He took a sip of his beer, and looked at Jane, the same expression on his face. Yes, he agreed completely- and his partner/soon-to-be girlfriend if he had a saying, who was back at the precinct, was a statement to that.

"You are scared of the redhead." Jane said, grinning like the Cheshire cat, playing with the tea cup.

"What? No! I mean…" Danny grunted, hating Jane like he used to when they were younger and growing up together, and annoyed, he leaned in his chair. "Yes, Carrie scares the hell out of me, all right? But _Teresa," _he said her name with meaning, with an evil glance full of meaning "does too. And besides, Carrie's not your average cop. She suffers from… from…" He struggled to find the word- kind of funny, given the context, and closed his eyes to concentrate, a trick that Jane himself had thought him a long time before. "Hyper… hyperthymesia, I think?"

The name of the medical condition turned a bulb on in Jane's mind, who looked at his brother-in-law intrigued. He had heard about this peculiar condition- and yes, Danny boy had gotten the name right – and knew what people affected by this pathology could, theoretically, do, but he had never met someone who was afflicted by it. Oh, Danny had gotten his interest, definitely: he couldn't wait to talk a little bit more with the redhead cop.

"So, she remembers _everything… _More than me. More than anyone else on this planet who's not affected by this illness…. Fascinating." He told, intrigued, tapping a finger on his lips. "And we are not talking about just random facts or…" Reading about hyperthymesia was one think, but meeting someone who had it in the flash, was just a horse of a different color. Oh, the redhead woman definitely intrigued him: he was wondering if her boss/ex-lover/love interest would have something to say if he were to ask her out on a date to investigate what she could do.

Or maybe not. Not that he cared too much about what "Al" thought, but he didn't want to get Lisbon mad, let her think that theirs had been just a one night stand born from the need of comfort. Yes, jealousy could have helped them to sort this mess out, but after all Danny was right. Lisbon could be scary, and she often had a gun at hand. And staplers. And an hammer hidden in her desk. He shuddered, and Danny smiled a little smile realizing what was probably going through the other man's head.

"Nope. Carrie can't forget. Whatever she likes it or not, once she sees it, she remembers it. There's this newspaper in Syracuse, where she comes from. Ask her how the weather was like on any given day until six years ago, when she moved to New York, and she'll tell you the weather, the sunrise, sundown, what the local theatre was showing… _anything."_

Jane looked impressed, and wondered how he could try to show off, to try Carrie out. He loved a good challenge- and he had already recognized it. Now, he just had to set in motion one of his excellent plans just to see what she was capable of, and what use she could make of her abilities. "So… it's not the sassy one, right? What was her name? Nina, right?"

"I don't think you have met Tanya yet. Sitkowsky. Great girl. Patient. Heart of gold. Great listener. And a genius. " Once again, Danny had that faraway look in his eyes; right now, Jane didn't have to wonder where he was any longer: Danny was with Tanya, this amazing girl he seemed so fond of. But fond, Jane suspected, could be reductive, in that case. If he knew Danny –which he did- the boy was a goner, already crazy in love. Something that Patrick Jane had never envisioned in the life of Daniel Ruskin. It was a comforting thought, though. If Danny could change, there was a chance at happiness, at a new love, maybe, for Patrick Jane too.

Jane started to play once again with the now cold tea, his eyes as far away as Danny's. "Must be nice, being people like us… and finding the one person who drives us to be better." Jane laughed of a little, cynical laughter, but inside he wanted to scream and cry. He was a fool, and he was talking nonsense. Why was he trying to teach Danny a lesson? Or maybe it wasn't that. Maybe he wanted to be hated, wanted to be punished. For years and years, he had claimed he had loved, and was in love, with Angela, but even when she asked, despite her pleas, he had never abandoned the spotlight, nor tried to change his way. He had been a con-man when they had first met, and he had been a billionaire con-artist they day she had died.

Danny looked around, and then, he leaned over Jane. "Paddy…" He said, using the nickname the mentalist used to go by in the carnie circuit as a teenager. "Drop it, ok? I'm not any better than you. What do you think that Annie told me the day you had to bail me out of jail, uh? If she died mad with you because you were still the same…" He paused, taking a big breath, saying words he had never admitted out loud, with anyone. Not even with himself until that moment. "Then, she probably resented me too."

They stood in silence, nursing their drinks, for a long time, but the atmosphere now relaxed, almost comfortable, and then then, suddenly, Jane started to laugh, shaking his head.

"Uh?" Danny muttered, lifting an eyebrow, which made Jane laugh more and more. Danny Ruskin was a cop. And he had turned into a real one.

"You are a cop, and I work for the FBI. Us. I mean… how crazy is that?"

Danny joined in, because frankly, he couldn't agree more. If five or six years before, when he had last seen Jane, someone would have told him that one day he would have been a cop, and decided to stay one on his own accord, he would have suggested a visit to the closest asylum for the mentally insane. And for what concerned Jane, well… yes, he had thought it had been just a long con to get his (their) revenge, but apparently, it hadn't been just that. Over two years after Red John's demise, Patrick was back, working once again with Teresa Lisbon. Because, as oblivious as he could be, Danny wasn't a fool. If there was a reason that had driven his brother-in-law back to the States, it was the brunette cop. Even if Patrick still wore Annie's wedding ring.

"Listen, Paddy, I don't…" He paused, running a hand through his brown hair. He was struggling for words, and he knew he had to be careful with what he was about to say. "Annie was my sole family, and I've never stopped… I remember the good times, all right? And I may not be like you, or like Carrie, but I know what she wanted out of life. I know how her mind worked. I know that…" He paused and took a big breath, unable to meet Jane's gaze, scared of what he would have found if he had tried. "She wanted us to be happy. And you've done what you promised us to, so I think that… you are allowed to be happy, Paddy. To have a life of your own."

He finally dared to meet Jane's eyes, and what he saw was a storm, ice and cold and dreadful. Now, he knew why he was so damn good at his job, why the FBI had wanted him so damn much. Danny shivered, and felt as small as never before. "I don't need your permission, nor your forgiveness."

Danny wanted to reply, say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth to try to defend himself, his mobile went off, and when he reached into his pocket, Al's name was shining on the screen. He took the call, and listened to his boss on the other end of the line, with a litany of "Uh-Uh" and "yeah" and "sure". He ended the call and put some bills on the table, and then he stood.

"Listen, Al wants me to cover some angle. I gotta go and talk with Tanya and…" He didn't finish the sentence, because Jane cut him short.

"Tell her." As he saw Danny's struggling with the meaning of his words, he grinned, and went on, all smug and arrogant like his usual. He couldn't change too much, no matter what, even if the discussion was something as important as what they were talking about. "I could understand if you didn't want to share this with your coworkers, but this woman, if she is as important as you say, you should tell her. Everything." He paused. "Nowadays, I like to tell the truth to Lisbon, when it is important. And not because she is my partner in the field."

Danny smiled. "Then, maybe, you should follow your own advice. With _Teresa_." The use of Lisbon's given name- and the meaning behind it- didn't go unnoticed to Jane.

"I…" Jane started, and then sighed. "I tried. But she doesn't listen to me. She doesn't believe me. She thinks…"

"Paddy.." Danny said, patting his still sitting almost-relative on the shoulder. "I know you. You don't like to talk about yourself. You show who you are and what you feel with your actions. But I think that in this case, words may be louder than actions. So, follow your advice. And talk with her before it's too late. I think you wasted enough time already chasing after a ghost."

And with that, Danny left, playing with the change in his pockets. He was going to have to spend a bit of time with Tanya, and there was nothing that she loved more than hot coffee from the cart right in front of the precinct. Coffee and work were going to keep her mind busy- and in the meantime, he would think about Patrick's words. Maybe, there was some truth behind them.

And maybe, it was time to be honest with Tanya. Maybe…

* * *

Roe was sitting in complete silence in Tanya's office, his eyes focused on the cold and still full mug of coffee in his hands. The young tech expert didn't know what to say, she just looked at him, hoping against all hope that he would be opening up to her on his own accord. _Like it could actually happen, _she thought, sighing. In that moment, she felt like they had traveled back in time to over two years before, when Roe had sat in the same chair when suspected of having wrongfully shouted a suspect. They had knew each other for almost five years, since the day he had arrived at the precinct, and yet, despite their obvious feelings for each other, she didn't know a lot about him. Yes, she was aware that he had quite the big family and an almost endless list of connections with people all around the US soil and beyond, and yet she didn't _really know_ anything about _him_. Why had he never mentioned his parents, or any other close relative? Was there a particular reason he didn't want to talk about his past, his childhood?

And now, there was Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon. She didn't know what kind of tie there was between the trio, but she wasn't a stupid just because she was a nerd. Jane, according to what she had heard (and read on the almighty Google), could be a great performer, but the same couldn't be said about Roe and, with all due respect, Agent Lisbon. She had met the woman only a couple of hours before, after Roe had left with Jane, and just a glance had told her that the brunette was hiding something. She wanted to tell Roe that no matter what, he could trust her, but they had knew each other long enough for the young man to be aware of this fact without her needing to voice it.

And despite not knowing his past, Tanya liked to think that somehow she _knew _Roe, deep down, where it mattered. Just like he had confided in her after that shooting, she was pretty sure that he would be doing the same about what was troubling him. They just needed time- and she wasn't going to force her hand on this one. She and Roe had walked a thin line right from the very first day they met, and now they were finally getting closer and closer to finally have their chance at something more than the friendship they had shared until that day. She wasn't going to risk losing him over this, whatever it was. He was a good boy- he would come around, eventually. Now, all she could do was letting him know she was there for him, no matter what.

"Ehy… you all right?" She asked, tentatively, as she took his hand in her smaller one, her eyes searching for his owns. Roe took a big breath and nodded, then he shook his head, like he really didn't know the answer himself, and yet he remained in silence. She hoped he wouldn't see it as a way of getting him to talk forcefully. She didn't want that. Just when –and if- he would decide so, they would go there. Baby steps, she repeated to herself with a little smile, just like everything else in their relationship. "If you don't want to talk about it, it's all right, but, ehy, if you need a friendly shoulder, you know where to find me, ok?"

Tanya made to move away and regain possession of her hand, but she felt Row's gasp tighten in an almost hurtful way. She knew he didn't want to cause her any pain- she could feel the desperation radiating from him, and when she looked at his face, she could almost see it written all over his features. He looked sad and lonely, way older than his 30 something years; he seemed like a man defeated by life, who had gone through enormous suffering and had yet to let it go of his past. The breath died in her throat, and for the first time she wondered how she had missed it. She knew that she had never been completely oblivious, but with her deep friendship with machines she had never been such a good judge of character. But this? There was something buried deep within Roe, a burden that menaced to crush him sooner or later, and she, his best friend, the girl who claimed to love him, had missed it until now. Had she really just said he wasn't a good actor? It was like she had never met him before, and was seeing this man for the first time in her life.

"Roe…" Her eyes got teary, and as she reached out to cup his face, Roe let it go of any pretense, and crushed his chest against Tanya's. He buried his nose in her hazelnut hair, and took her in- she smelled like citrus and something else he couldn't really pinpoint, something that, as irrational as it was, was just her, Tanya, something made of home, love, computers, books, coffee and home cooking.

"I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry…" He chanted again and again and again, his gasp painful and desperate as he cuddled her in a soothing way in his arms. Tanya, not caring about the pain or the bruises she knew he was going to leave, answered with the same desperation Roe was showing. They stopped moving, and when few minutes had passed and she had thought he had fallen asleep just like that, with his nose buried in her locks, she made to move and part, but yet again he forced her against his chest.

This time it was different, though; he stared in her eyes, and without saying a word or give her a warning, he leaned toward her and closed the distance between them, sealing their mouths with a kiss full of softness, longing and love. It was the kind of kiss Tanya had always thought Roe would give a girl, and despite having fantasied for years about this very moment, she wasn't prepared for it. It was slow and sensual, and yet it took her breath away, and when they finally parted and he caressed her lips with his thumb, she could see that even if he was in control- differently from her- Roe had been just affected as she had.

He smiled of a little smile, and his eyes shone in the darkness of her small room at the precinct. "I've wanted to kiss you since the first day we met." He admitted, candidly. There was something… strange, about him. He looked so sure of himself, the complete opposite of what he had always looked around her. She wondered if it wasn't because they had finally kissed, after having danced around each other for so long. Maybe it was because he finally knew where they stood. Or maybe, there was still something he wasn't telling her.

She still blushed as she got lost in his eyes, and again Roe closed the gap between them and gave her few small pecks on her bruised lips, smiling as he did so. When they had had enough, she buried her head in his chest, relaxing in his embrace. He was still tense, but as he started to rub circles on her cloth-covered skin, she felt like he was finally ready to talk, like an enormous weight was being released from his shoulders after a long time.

"Tanya, I…" He started, and then he stopped. In the following minutes, she felt Roe trying to talk more than once, but every time, words escaped him, and he looked at her with an hunted expression. He looked like a scared animal, and she wondered if he didn't fear that he was about to lose her by admitting the truth out loud- whatever the truth was.

"Is it about them?" She asked, a finger on his lips as once again he tried to talk. "I mean, Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon. I know it is, because Carrie says that when you saw him, you looked like you had seen a ghost. I don't care what it is, even if I can't understand why you feel like you can't share it with me, but, I am here, Roe, all right?" An hand took hold of his chin, and Tanya forced him to look at her. Yes, he was scared of losing her by saying the truth, but she feared that a lie would have been their final stop as well. "Whenever you are ready, I am _here_. Like I have always been. Like I will _always_ be." Her palm was on his chest, right on his heart, and the figurative meaning behind her words didn't escape the young detective; Tanya was there, all around him at the precinct, but she was _there _as well, in his life, in his heart. Her skin burned against the warm cotton of his shirt, and he felt like there was no fabric separating them. He circled her wrist with his own hand, rubbing the soft skin tenderly. It was an electric sensation, and he smiled, wanting her in his life – like his woman, his partner, his mate - like never before.

She smiled a little smile in return, her cheeks burning, and Roe felt like crying. He knew that Tanya was being honest and completely open with him, and for that reason, he knew it was now or never. He didn't want for her to wait for the truth for her whole life, wait for him, and resent him in the long run. If the past had thought him anything, it was to live every day like it was your last, because you can't know what will happen next. He knew that Patrick still thought about his last argument with Angela, that he regretted not saying goodnight to Charlotte when he left that night, and he didn't want to live with the same weight.

"You remember how I seem to always have a relative or someone I know in any other town?" She nodded in affirmation, looking a bit lost. Yes, it had always been odd that Roe had family in any town they happened to walk in and he always happen to know someone a bit shady – but he had always looked like a good man; she knew him, and she knew that it was the case. But now, his tone seemed to hide something different, a deeper meaning. He was once again scared and unsure, she felt it in his voice, and there was nothing that the tech expert wanted to do more than taking him in her arms and cuddle his head in her lap like he was a lost boy. More than once, she had regretted always putting a stop to whatever was going on between them. She had always allowed Roe to get closer, just to take two steps back, putting him at arm's length. Now, how she wished she had never done so! There was a part of her that wanted to be able to take his face between her hands, and kiss him until he got lost and forgot all about the rest of the world, his problems; but they weren't that way-not yet, at least – and she knew that right now all she was supposed to do was being close to him as a friend and accept whatever he was going to tell her.

He shook his head, unable to meet her eyes. "I lied to you, Tanya. I've lied to all of you…always." He finally lifted his gaze, and when he met her eyes, he was lost. He saw trust and love, and he knew that he had to do as Patrick had suggested. If he and Tanya were really meant to be, she would have listened to him, would have understood, or just refused to judge him, and she would have helped him to come to terms with his past.

He forced Tanya to sit back on her chair, and then he looked at her; he took a big breath and he finally started to talk, not stopping until he was done with his story; his eyes were teary, but in a good way, and his lips and his young, handsome features were graced by a slight smile. Tanya felt like crying too, because she could see that a huge weight was finally being lifted from his shoulders- by opening up with her: it was a confession of love and dedication as she had never seen before.

"My real name is Daniel Ruskin, and I was born in a carnival in California 35 years ago…"

* * *

Jane and Lisbon were finally allowed to leave only when the case was closed once and for all; in fact, despite the consultant's initial reluctance, at the end his help, and insight, proved to be invaluable. As predicted by Jane himself, Tanya and Wally were able to cross data and discover that, at the time of the first murder in the state of New York, a young man had gone missing close to the victim's house; his name was Arthur Smithson, born and raised in the same neighborhood as the victims; he also worked at a grocery store close to the their apartment, and, although the store didn't deliver, a nice old lady confirmed to Jane that, as he knew everyone in the street, the boy often made favors out of the book, bringing whatever was needed to the people who couldn't get on their own by the store. Apparently, he had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Monroe had taken advantage of it, using the grocery-shopping delivery as an excuse to breaking and entering, and then… then, it was history, and they all knew too well what had happened afterward, to both the victims, and to Monroe at a later date.

What they hadn't knew was what had happened to the young man afterwards. Monroe was, apparently, more tech-wise than what they assumed, and probably afflicted by paranoia as well, as he didn't own any longer any technological device of his own and, as post 9/11 many internet cafes asked for IDs of some kind, he seemed to avoid them as well. He didn't even have a mobile, so using the GPS or triangulating the location of the kid based on Monroe's past steps was impossible. At the end, the did it old-school, and dug into his past until they didn't found that there was a deceased long-relative he used to visit as a kid who, at the time of her death, used to own a small square of land. There, they found, in chain, de-hydrated and malnourished, Arthur. With new charges against him, Jane and Lisbon were forced to leave without the man they had come for. The consultant, with his personal view of justice- eye for an eye- wasn't exactly thrilled, but he guessed that at least this way many people would have received closure with his incarceration, just a couple of steps from where he had killed his victims.

As they waited in line at JFK, Jane's eyes fell on the people around him. Lisbon was talking with Nina, the other member of Al, "Roe" and Carrie's unit, and it was as clear as day that they were bonding-probably over firearms. Carrie was there with them too, but she kept to herself. He could see in her stance that she wasn't fully comfortable in this environment. He wondered why; from what he had heard, there could be many reasons. Maybe it was because she hadn't been back on the job long enough after her years long hiatus; maybe it was because she still had on her shoulders the weight of her sister's murder, a cold case, the only fragment of her memory she had never been able to access.

Or maybe, it was a bit more "trivial": with a small smile, Jane followed her gaze, and saw that her eyes fell, every now and then, on Al, busy talking over the phone, with an expression full of meaning; Roe had let it slip that Carrie and Al, a long time before, had been in a long relationship, and had almost gotten married, but she had left him when he had turned her sister's investigation into a cold case. Now, here she was, and even if it had been years… he couldn't say if Carrie still loved Al- who was clearly in a relationship that wasn't making him too happy – but, clearly, she was wondering many what ifs right now.

He was too. And he was sick and tired of it. For the whole duration of their work trip, he hadn't approached Lisbon on the subject of their wild and passionate night together as she knew she valued her integrity and the case too much, but now that he was going to have her secluded in an airplane, he wasn't going to let the occasion slip through his fingers. He had wasted enough time chasing ghosts, and it had come the moment he would share this information with her.

"Ehy, you all right?" He turned, and he saw "Roe" (it was still strange thinking of him as someone who wasn't Danny) approaching him. Jane nodded, and took in his former brother-in-law's demeanor. He was more relaxed and at easy, but he was still holding back a bit. Probably, thought, it was just the relative's presence over there; Jane was almost positive that once he would be on the plane, the detective was going to breathe a sigh of relief.

Jane chuckled, shamelessly, elbowing him in the ribs. "You little bastard. You told her everything and got lucky last night."

Roe huffed, grunting something under his breath that Jane didn't really understood- all bad things, he guessed. "Last night I was working on the case. Contrary to someone who was taking a nap on my boss' couch." He shook his head, certain that Jane would never change. Some things were written in the stone, and the consultant's behavior was one of them. Jane just smiled, knowing and understanding the young man's thoughts. Once again he considered committing himself to the closest asylum, because it was still weird and incredible that Danny Ruskin had become a cop- and a good one, too. He wondered if visit Pete and give him the news, but then, shaking his head, he decided against it; the big man would sent him for real to a shrink if he heard such a thing.

"JANE!" He turned, and saw Lisbon getting ready, already in line, on her tip-toes to seem taller and to be seen by him. He turned one last time to Roe and shook his head, and stood in silence. What was he supposed to tell him, after all?

At the end, Roe beat him, showing a wisdom Jane had never believed the boy capable of in the past. "Tell her, Paddy. Don't waste any other time." He just nodded, in silence, and felt the urge to hug the young man and cry in his shirt, but decided against it; it wasn't the time, nor the place, there was too many people around them, no one knowing of their shared past, of the truth behind the mask of the man who was Roe Sanders. A glance had to suffice, but Jane promised to keep in touch, just to say those short few words out loud in the future. Despite everything, they were always going to share something big, huge, in their common past. Something that couldn't just be forgotten.

He hurried towards Lisbon, and caught up with her, delighted by her laughter as she took in by the vision of the man in those old, ridiculous brown shoes and suit running with a duffel bag with the smile of a kid. All he could do was smiling in return, his grin getting bigger and bigger. He couldn't help it: her happiness was contagious.

"Is it everything all right with…" She didn't finish the sentence as they walked in line, just made a small movement of her head, probably noticeable only by Jane, in the "late" Danny Ruskin's direction.

"As strange as it can sound…" He made a pause, and took a big breath, like clearing his mind or looking for the right words. "I think it is. He is wiser, and loved by someone who accepts him and his past." He paused once again, and for the longest time, he didn't say a word. He skimmed Lisbon's knuckles as they walked, always side by side, grinning like the Cheshire cat every time she blushed at the apparently casual contact.

He only talked again when they were on the plane, sitting close to each other. Teresa was looking outside her window, and he turned his gaze in her direction. He elbowed her in the side, clearing his throat to get her attention. She turned, looking quizzically at him, but genuinely surprised. It made him happy seeing her reaction; she wasn't guarded, nor was questioning his motives, seeing something shady that absolutely wasn't there.

"I think…" He started, rubbing circles on her hand, and making sure she knew he was doing it on purpose. Her pulse quickened, and he got immense pleasure in this simple fact, on the knowledge of the impact, the effect that the simplest and softest of his touches could have on her.

He struggled for words. And then, he decided to go with what she already knew, the words she had already heard once. Words that it was time she knew had been always meant for her, and her alone.

"Danny, he has found someone he can trust, someone strong despite her apparent fragility, someone in peace with herself. I had only a couple of words with Tanya, but when I looked at Danny, I know he sees someone better than him, someone that has seen him at his worst, his… his bad side… and yet, she stays by his side, and loves him."

Hearing the words, Lisbon's eyes turned glassy, and she barely kept the sobs at bay. Even if Jane was talking about Danny, she immediately recognized the words as almost the same ones he had uttered many years before, while trying to frame Erika Flynn for her husband's murder. His look, his complete devotion, the love and affection she saw reflected in his eyes told her he was putting much more than that simple meaning in those words- he was putting his whole heart, and their future in the line. In that moment, she didn't need to question his motives any longer. She saw him for who and what he really was, the man behind the mask, the one she had always knew he could be, and maybe, just maybe, had been, a long time before: someone who loved fully, and once committed, couldn't let go.

And that man, right now, was telling her that their night of comfort sex had been so much more than that, much more than simple friends with benefits; it was them, finally admitting that they had always been so much more than just coworkers or friends.

"I think I may have found that woman too." He said, the question still evident in his eyes, mixed with the fear of rejection. She didn't doubt that he would give her up that easily, even if she said no, but she had waited for this moment for too long. She had loved him for years, waited, and then played the card of the friend, just to run away scared after their night together. But now, not any longer.

"I think you did." She admitted candidly, turning a lovely shade of red. She cupped his face, and kissed him once, just a quick peck on his lips. "I think you just have to woo and romance her a little, though."

Two hours later, as he watched Lisbon sleeping peacefully at his side, their fingers intertwined, he thanked "Roe" for his blessing. He nuzzled Teresa's hair, and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. Smiling, he decided that, first thing first, on Monday, he would ask Abbott about the case file concerning Carrie's sister; he would never be able to make it up to "Roe" for his sister and niece's deaths, but he could get a bit closer to forgiveness. And maybe, he could do it by helping his best friends- and meanwhile, putting a serial killer behind bars as well.


End file.
